


Day In, Day Out

by MirrorMystic



Series: Facets [3]
Category: Final Fantasy Tactics A2: Grimoire of the Rift, Final Fantasy XII, Final Fantasy XIV, Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:54:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22468978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirrorMystic/pseuds/MirrorMystic
Summary: Life after deserting the mafia isn't the easiest thing around. But Grey gets by, with a little help from her friends.
Series: Facets [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1587475





	Day In, Day Out

~*~

  
There was a time when Grey would have been flattered that she was important enough to have assassins sent after her, but now? It was starting to get a little old.  
  
This particular hit squad at least had the courtesy to come after her at night, at least. No witnesses. No civilian casualties. Although, it did mean that their attempts to blend in weren’t quite so effective without a crowd of market-goers to melt into.  
  
“Come out!” Grey called, more annoyed than anything. “You’re not fooling anybody.”  
  
They emerged from the shadows around her. A black mage, below a wooden awning, their features hidden by a wide-brimmed hat. A seeq gunner, a huge blunderbuss in his meaty hands, a bandolier of hand bombs slung across his chest. A bangaa dragoon, lurking in an alley, spear in hand. And a human ninja, perched on a roof, silhouetted against the moon.  
  
“That’s right, Crow,” the man said coldly. He drew his sword, black bladed and burning with an eerie white flame. “No ambush for you. A defector from Khamja deserves to see their death coming.”  
  
Grey sighed. She rested her hands on the hilts of the dual swords slung low on her hips.  
  
“Alright, well, could you send some prettier hitmen next time? Because it’s not much of a view.”  
  
The squad charged. Time slowed to a crawl. Grey saw the gunner take aim, the mage’s staff glowing fire-red, felt the rush of wind as both the ninja and dragoon pounced upon her, blades flashing in the moonlight.  
  
Grey threw her arm aside. The ninja took a spray of shuriken to the chest and hit the ground facefirst in a crumpled heap. The dragoon came down, spear glinting. Grey raised her sword and stepped aside. The dragoon plunged his spear harmlessly into the dirt and gagged on her blade, impaled by his own momentum. Two shots exploded into the dragoon’s back-- a blunderbuss shot shredding his armor, and a magicked firebolt setting him ablaze.  
  
Grey hurled the bangaa into the dirt with an over-the-shoulder throw, lit one of her own hand-bombs from his burning body and pitched it across the square. The seeq caught it without thinking, reflexively clutching it to the bandolier on his chest-- before the combined explosives annihilated him and some grocer’s poor fruit stand in a blaze of light. The black mage hesitated, a lightning spell half-charged in his staff. A trio of throwing knives shot into his chest. Fat, acid-yellow bolts lashed out of his staff and surged into the lightning rods transfixing his chest. He hit the ground in a smouldering heap.  
  
The ninja stared at his fallen comrades, before tightening the grip on his sword. He charged forward, bellowing a battle cry. His sword came flashing down--  
  
Grey caught his wrist. She stabbed him in the chest four times, too quick for him to follow, and then opened up his throat with one clean slash.  
  
Grey let him fall. He died face down in the dirt. She pulled the scabbard from the boy’s back, picked up his black-bladed katana, and slid the blade back into its sheath with a click.  
  
She took a deep breath. She felt the adrenaline leave her system, felt the myriad aches and pains come rushing back.  
  
Grey buckled the ghostfire katana to her belt, and walked away.  
  
~*~  
  
“Oh, gods, that sounds awful!” Kisha cooed.  
  
“Are you kidding?” Mika stared at her. “That was awesome!”  
  
“You’re not _hurt_ , are you…?” Kisha fretted, her eyes dark with concern.  
  
“No, no…” Grey reassured. No more than usual for a lifetime of conflict, at any rate. “I’m just tired. Tired of fighting for nothing better than my own survival. It was flattering, once. Now, it’s just… exhausting.”  
  
“You poor thing…” Kisha cooed in sympathy. “Do you want to play with my tits?”  
  
Grey flashed her an odd look. “...No, that’s… fine.”  
  
“Hey, at least you didn’t walk away empty-handed,” Mika said, her tail swishing. She reached out with a sandaled foot and nudged the sheathed katana leaning against the table. “You picked up a nice new sword.”  
  
“Yeah,” Grey shrugged. She drew the sword partially out of its sheath, watched the strange white fire coil around the blade, the ghostly whispering filling the air. She clicked it back into its sheath. “...It’s probably cursed. But I’ll deal with that later.”  
  
“Hey,” Mika said, laying a hand on Grey’s shoulder. “Any fight you walk away from is a good fight, right? Any day is a good day if you get to come home.”  
  
Grey chuckled. She reached up to squeeze Mika’s hand on her shoulder, before reaching out and idly petting Mika’s ears.  
  
“Yeah. ‘Home’. To my favorite corner table at the bar, a spare room upstairs, and, somehow, the two closest things I’ve got to friends in this city.”  
  
“Oh, you sweetheart~!” Kisha beamed. She grabbed Gray’s arm and squeezed it to her chest, her wings flapping with joy.  
  
“Alright, alright…” Grey smiled, wriggling her arm out of Kisha’s grasp. She stood up and stretched, stifling a yawn. “...Well, ladies. What do you say we take this upstairs?”  
  
“Upstairs, or, like… _upstairs_?” Mika winked, lips curled in a conspiratorial grin.  
  
“Upstairs,” Grey rolled her eyes. “It’s been a long night.”  
  
Mika took Grey by the hand and ushered her to the stairwell at the back of the All’s Fair. The door at the top of the stairs was ajar, showing a glimpse of satin curtains and warm lamplight, crimson and gold. Kisha squeezed past them and pulled the door shut, before holding her bracelet against the doorknob. Glyphs shone across the doorframe, and when they opened it again, the door led out into the employee dorms.  
  
“Come on in,” Kisha smiled brightly, as she ushered the duo towards her room.  
  
“You know, in the morning, you might want to ask Madam Qestris about some mercenary work,” Mika suggested as they walked. “If you’re gonna be fighting for your life on a daily basis, you might as well get paid for it.”  
  
“Maybe,” Grey nodded.  
  
“Whatever you choose, I’ll always be around to be a chest to lean on,” Kisha mused.  
  
“Don’t you mean ‘shoulder’?” Mika teased.  
  
“Why would you lean on something so bony?” Kisha scoffed. “Lean on my chest, it’s a lot softer.”  
  
The girls laughed. Grey shook her head with a weary fondness.  
  
The ghostfire katana rattled restlessly in its sheath.  
  
Grey had turned her back on the most powerful crime syndicate in Ivalice. She was a stranger in a strange city, with few resources, few allies and even fewer friends.  
  
She was still alive. For now.  
  
Tomorrow would be a new day.  
  
~*~


End file.
